


Tales of the Mafia

by vannahfanfics



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Oneshot collection, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, friendship fluff, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannahfanfics/pseuds/vannahfanfics
Summary: A collection of oneshots from the fandom of Katekyo Hitman Reborn!DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters presented in these stories. Those rights belong to Akira Amano.
Relationships: Chrome Dokuro/Joushima Ken, Hibari Kyouya/Sasagawa Kyouko, Sasagawa Kyouko/Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sasagawa Kyouko/Yamamoto Takeshi
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! Welcome to my oneshot collection for Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, _Tales of the Mafia!_ It includes a variety of stories, from passionate romances to tales of friendship, and I hope everyone enjoys reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. If you have migrated here from _Cuddle Corner,_ thank you for sticking with me; if you are new, welcome and enjoy what I have here! In either case, happy reading!

I do take prompts/pairing and story requests (in fact, I love them, so please feel free to request!). However, there are a couple of guidelines to keep in mind:

  * If a prompt is submitted, I **do not** guarantee that I will agree to write it. If I feel uncomfortable at the prompt or otherwise feel like I do not possess enough information to adequately complete the prompt, it is my right to politely refuse to take the prompt. If the prompt is from a series that I have not read/seen, it is likely that I will place the prompt on hold until I have done so. If the prompt is from an anime filler arc, I may refuse or require a short explanation of the filler arc to provide me with enough detail to complete the prompt. Please respect my choice as an author to refuse prompts. 
  * Please do not comment with ship hate. I do not tolerate ship discrimination here (within reason, citing the rules below); it is a sure-fire way to earn yourself a block. I am a multi-shipper and don't care about petty ship wars, so it's really quite rude to come on here bleating that I am "delusional" for writing non-canon ships for fun. _Don't do it._ I write your ship too, I promise. Let others enjoy their ships. 
  * Most of the stories I write are male/female, mostly because this is what I am comfortable writing. However, if you wish to suggest a female/female or male/male prompt, please feel free to do so. I don't discriminate against such pairings and will most likely write them if requested, it is just unlikely that I will do so spontaneously. Again, please respect my decision as the author to refuse to write a pairing if I cannot draw appropriate inspiration.
  * Finally, this is _not_ a place for smut. I respect people who read and/or write it, but I am not one of those people, so please do not request anything that is NSFW. Incest and pedophilia are also prohibited. Other than NSFW, there are two other things to keep I mind. _I do not romanticize cheating_. So if I feel your request involves something of this nature, I will politely refuse. I have been hassled about this before, so please don’t press me on it. Secondly, _I am sensitive about large age gaps between characters_. These will be taken on a case-by-case basis and depends on the age of the characters as well as their relationship. I am particularly iffy concerning student-teacher relationships, and those will most likely be refused. Of course, everyone is entitled to their preferences and I will never harass you or judge you if you request something of this nature. All I ask is that if I refuse, you take is gracefully, and don’t get upset if I happen to write another pairing with an age gap because the circumstances are most likely radically different. I promise you that I have my reasons. 



My requests are currently: **OPEN**


	2. Index

**Chapter 1:** Our Scars _(Yamamoto/Kyoko)_

 **Chapter 2:** Courage _(Tsunayoshi/Kyoko)_

 **Chapter 3:** Between the Book Spines _(Hibari/Kyoko)_

 **Chapter 4:** Unexpected Guest _(Ken/Chrome)_

 **Chapter 5:** Healing Hands and Battle Scars _(Kyoko/Tsunayoshi)_


	3. Our Scars

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Takeshi Yamamoto, Kyoko Sasagawa

_Hi, guys! I’ve been obsessed with Hitman Reborn! as of late, so I’ve decided to participate in Katekyo Hitman Reborn RarePair Week (because we all know how much I love rarepairs). I didn’t really vibe with the Day 1 prompts, so I’ve decided to start with the Day 2 prompt, “Scars”! Hope you all enjoy it :)_

The pattering of the rain against Kyoko’s umbrella was soothing as she strolled along the wet sidewalk, her rainboots squeaking with every step. A plastic bag swung below her bent elbow, containing a selection of decadent cakes from her favorite bakery. She had delivered most of them to Tsuna and her friends, and now had only one last stop- Takeshi Yamamoto’s house. Kyoko still didn’t understand much of their world- the dangerous situations and such- but she understood well enough that she was invaluable to them as support. Kyoko could fill the role of supporter perfectly fine, and so here she was, delivering some treats as a reward for their hard work with… whatever they were doing in their spare time.

The iron latch shrieked in protest as she lifted it, and the wooden gate agreed with its partner, sounding an earthy groan. The rain was cascading something fierce now, throwing up splashes against the rubber material of her rain boots with every walloping raindrop. Ripples in the two-inch-deep water distorted the yard into a sea of green and brown and gray. Kyoko carefully picked her way over the slick stones that marked the path to Takeshi’s house. She cried out when the sole of her boot slipped over the smooth surface and caused her ankle to roll inward. Tears sprung to her eyes and a whine to her throat as the fiery pain rocketed up her leg. She remained there a while, hunched over with her hand buried down in the boot to rub tenderly at the screaming flesh, but she protectively held the bag of boxed cakes to her chest.

 _They had Yamamoto’s favorite today… I said I would hike through the weather, and I shall hike through this pain, too!_ Huffing in resolve, she straightened back up and limped up to the porch. She rapped loudly on the doorframe before opening the door, which was always unlocked, and announced her presence. She heard Takeshi’s father chime a greeting from within the bowels of the home. While she awaited his arrival, she stepped onto the welcome mat and removed her rainboots and folded up her umbrella, setting both neatly aside. The smiling man came round the corner and embraced her with a polite hug and kiss on the cheek. Kyoko had made many calls to Takeshi’s house, and she was regarded more as family than a guest at this point.

“My dear Kyoko! I sure hope you haven’t come tromping through this horrendous rain just to call on my boy,” the kind man scolded her as she rifled through the plastic bag.

“Not _just_ him!” she laughed and procured a sweet confection, holding it out to him. His eyebrow raised above a twinkling eye, and a wide grin split his weathered features.

“You truly are an angel,” he tutted dramatically and took the box. He gestured loosely towards the back of the house, too absorbed with opening the container to be descriptive. “Takeshi is training in the dojo. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” he said with a pat to her head before strolling off to enjoy Kyoko’s generous gift.

She ignored the stinging pain in her ankle as she trekked through the house she now knew by memory. At the rear of the abode was a spacious room, where Takeshi often trained hard with the sword. She came to the door and found it closed.

“Yamamoto?” she called as she knocked lightly on the dojo’s sliding door. His grunts floated through the wood and cloth. So did the ring of the katana as he cleaved the air over and over in practiced, precise movements. Kyoko shifted her weight from foot to foot for a few seconds, but a wry smile soon began poking at her expression. _He’s so in the zone he can’t hear me,_ she thought amusedly. “Yamamoto, I brought cake!” she called louder and opened the sliding door. “Yama- _oh_.” Her voice died in her throat, and she stopped opening the door halfway, too stunned by the visceral image of shirtless Takeshi in the middle of the dojo.

Sweat rolled over the rugged contours of his body, pooling in the waistband of the sweatpants that were slung loosely over his hips. His arm muscles flexed as he brought the katana down in a long arc, and Kyoko’s eyes sparkled with the light that refracted over its hyper-sharp edge. His black hair slicked to his forehead, and every few seconds, he would jerk his head to flick the dampened strands out of his eyes. His eyebrows were narrow slopes furrowing his brow in the most impressive display of raw concentration Kyoko had ever witnessed.

Kyoko liked Takeshi, a lot. How could she not? He was so friendly and easygoing. His smile lit up even the darkest room, and his laugh never failed to send joy bubbling up in her body. She liked him, sure, but she had never considered the fact that she may _like_ him… But she sure considered it as she lingered in the threshold of the door, silent, watching him bring that sword down in empty air again and again. All words were lumps in her throat; thus, she could only gawk open-mouthed at him until he finally noticed her.

“Oh, hello, Kyoko!” he grinned jovially and swept a hand through his hair. The way the sweat-soaked strands parted beneath his fingertips made Kyoko’s mouth run painfully dry. Her eyes wanted to focus on every inch of him- his pectorals heaving as he panted, those crimped hairs still sticking together awkwardly from his hand parting them, his bright eyes and beaming smile- but that was _horribly_ improper of her, so she looked at the floor instead. Shuffling her feet shyly, she retrieved the cake box and held it out. “Cake?” The evident elation in his voice made her heart flutter, although she could have brought him a neat rock, and he’d get just as excited about it.

She heard the click of the sword sliding into its sheath, followed by the patter of his bare feet over the wooden floor. A red haze drifted to her cheeks when his large hands enveloped her own for a brief moment as he retrieved the box. He whistled when he flipped it open, admiring the cake within. “It looks delicious! Thanks, Kyoko!”

“You’re welcome.” It was impolite not to look directly at him when she addressed him, so she forced her eyes upward. Her cheeks darkened incredibly as she did. _Yamamoto has such a lovely smile…_ she thought dreamily. Cheerfully, he swiped a finger across the mountain of cake icing and then popped it in his mouth. He hummed appreciatively and popped the finger out. She wasn’t sure why, but the action made her body flush with heat, she tore her gaze away from his face. Her eyes landed on his arm, and she inhaled sharply. Yamamoto blinked in confusion, followed her intense gaze, and then smiled wanly.

“Oh… You’ve never seen them, have you?”

Thin white scars sliced through the tan skin of his arms. Some of them were many centimeters thick, indicative of a blade biting deep into the flesh. Possessed by some force, Kyoko allowed the bag of cakes to drop to the floor and reached out with both her hands to trace the crisscrossing marks. Takeshi watched her with lidded eyes, his irises swimming with a deep emotion for which she had not the name.

“So many,” she murmured under her breath. Her small, thin fingers tracked the map of healed wounds up to his thick bicep. Her eyes were wide when she looked to him again, expecting to find his smile sad or regretful. Instead, she saw the unmistakable glint of pride hiding within his curled lips. “I don’t… Didn’t they _hurt_?”

“Of course they did,” he laughed nonchalantly, as if a teenager bearing such marks were utterly typical. “But I don’t regret them. I earned them protecting my friends. I’ll gladly scar this entire body of mine if it means I can keep them safe.” As he stared at the pattern of thin white lines over his arm, Kyoko did not doubt that he was envisioning the faces of his dear comrades there. Kyoko couldn’t understand their world at all, even now, but she could appreciate Takeshi’s overwhelming desire to protect those closest to him.

_Yet…_

Her eyelashes were beaded with tears as she gripped his upper arm with two quivering hands. His fingernails bit into the flesh, pressing small crescent moons into his skin, but he did not complain. He only looked at her in bewilderment as she stood in front of him, shaking.

“Yamamoto, I… I would much rather you be _careful_ ,” she sniffed miserably. Her thumbs pressed into a half-an-inch thick bulge of scar tissue, making the skin around it glare white as the blood flooded out of the capillaries. “One day… It may be too bad a wound to heal.” She swallowed the thick lump that was beginning to form in her throat, but it just bobbed right back, making it laborious to breathe. The tears dripped from her lashes to splash down onto his arm. “I-I don’t know much about what it is you and Tsuna and everyone else do, but… I _do_ see that it’s dangerous, and… I just want you to be safe. Please be _safe_ , Yamamoto.”

His hand slid underneath her chin, soft fingers cradling her tear-stained cheeks. She offered no resistance as he tilted her head up. This time, his smile was sad, incredibly so.

“Ahhh, now this is _no_ good. Kyoko is kind enough to bring me cake, and I’ve made her cry? How _shameful_ of me,” he whined self-deprecatingly, with only the faintest hint of amusement. His thumb stroked over her cheek to catch the fresh rolling tears. His teasing tone tugged a small smile onto her lips, making him smile softly in answer. “Ah, that’s much better. Kyoko’s smile is the most beautiful in the world.” She laughed airily and flushed, hitting him lightly in the chest. He still dripped with sweat, so the slap was especially loud.

“You kid too much!”

“Kidding? Does that sound like _me_?” he joked, drawing another bubbly giggle out of her. His thumb continued to caress her cheek, though her tears had dried thanks to his comforting. His eyes searched her face eagerly, like he was committing it to memory. “No, I don’t joke. Not about this.”

“Yamamoto…” His name left her mouth in a whisper. His eyes ceased roaming her face to settle upon her lips. That rosy tint rose to her cheeks again, but she did nothing as his face encroached upon her own, save for purse her lips and close her eyes in preparation.

The kiss was soft and sweet. Kyoko inhaled deeply when his lips molded over hers, otherwise he would have stolen all the breath from her lungs. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but Kyoko savored those few precious moments, _savored_ the feeling of joy rushing from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. As Takeshi pulled away, she subconsciously chased him, desperate for just a few seconds longer. Her eyes fluttered open as a chuckle rumbled in his throat.

“Kyoko, you’re so cute!” he praised and patted her on the head. “It’s no wonder I adore you.” Kyoko’s entire face turned the color of a tomato.

“Y-Yamamoto! You can’t just _say_ things like that!” she sputtered, slapping her hands to her cheeks and finding them unbearably hot.

“ _Takeshi_!” he corrected with a wave of his hand. “I just kissed you, so please call me Takeshi!” She crouched down with a squeal, drowning in second-hand embarrassment with how casual and relaxed he was. Her bangs hung in her eyes as she hung her head, unable to look at him. She was so mortified that she couldn’t even focus on the burning pain in her ankle as she heaved all her weight upon her feet. Takeshi laughed lightheartedly like he always did, then crouched down to pat her head more. “Kyoko, Kyoko, don’t be embarrassed! It was a compliment!” She responded with a high-pitched whine. “Come on, let’s get out of here and eat some cake, yeah?” The plastic bag crinkled as he raised it, and when she finally pried her eyes open, she was staring at his baggy sweatpants. She looked up to find him offering a hand to her.

His fingers were rough and calloused. The wrapped tightly around her smaller ones, holding them tight as he eased her back into a standing position. She expected him to drop her hand after that, but he just kept right on holding it, swinging their arms between them as he headed through the door. “Ow, ow!” she yelped as the one step forward send brutalizing pain rocketing up her leg.

“Kyoko, what’s wrong?” He was on his knees immediately, taking her swollen foot in tender hands to inspect it. Both embarrassed and flattered, she nibbled on the skin of her knuckle.

“Well… I slipped and rolled my ankle in your yard.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Clumsy Kyoko. What am I to do with you?” he sighed and straightened back up. In one sudden, swift movement, he had scooped her up off the floor. Kyoko squeaked and buried her pink face into the palm of her hands, beating on the thick muscle of his shoulders.

“Yama- _Takeshi_! No! Your father will see!”

“And? He’s been nagging at me to confess my feelings for a while. ‘Kyoko is such a nice girl! She would be so good for you! Better hurry up or someone will snatch her up!’” His mockery of his father’s tone, complete with waggling his finger, was too amusing for her to focus on the sheer mortification that she was a regular topic of conversation in the household. Her hands continued to shield her apple-red face as Takeshi escorted her down the hallway, but she did find the way she so perfectly muscles into his muscular arms quite nice. Her fingers twitched before curling around Takeshi’s the meat of those muscles, and she did not miss the smile that alit his face.

On that rainy day, Kyoko certainly didn’t think her cake delivery would turn out such a way, but unexpected happenings make life worth living, do they not? Smiling as Takeshi carried her through the house, she traced the complicated map of those scars again, nestling her head into the crook of his neck.

They all lived such dangerous lives, Takeshi and the others. It worried Kyoko sometimes, but at the end of every day, she would be there to support them through thick and thin. It was a taxing job, a job that left deep scars on her heart… but then again, earning scars for those you loved could be quite rewarding in the end too.


	4. Courage

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Characters: Tsunayoshi Sawada, Kyoko Sasagawa

_Hello, everyone! Here is my story for Day 3 of Katekyo Hitman Reborn! RarePair Week, for the Prompt “Hilarious or Shocking Reveals”!_

Tsunayoshi Sawada had shed tears many times in his young (and unfortunately harrowing) young life. He honestly never dreamed he would be blinking away tears while staring admiringly at the rolled-up diploma in his hands. His quivering fingers bent the thin paper when they curled tightly around it. He sunk his front teeth into his bottom lip, but his mind was numb to the dull pain of the action. With a sudden squeal of delight, he crushed the paper in his fist and threw his hands in the air.

“I did it! I graduated high school!” he crowed triumphantly. He puffed out his chest and put his curled fists on his hips to close his eyes and inhale haughtily. “I am not No-Good Tsuna anymore!”

“Yes, you are.” Tsunayoshi deflated like a popped balloon to cast a sordid glare at his home tutor. Reborn had grown significantly in the last several years since the Arcoboleno curse had dissipated, now standing at Tsunayoshi’s waist. The man trapped in a child’s body still dressed way too sharp for his apparent age, donning a neat, pressed suit and his magic chameleon disguised as a hat. He sipped matter-of-factly at his coffee and smirked teasingly at Tsuna. “That paper in your hand doesn’t change the fact that you still have a long way to go- and it was my teachings that earned you that diploma, anyway.”

“Ahhh, Reborn, you’re just as ruthless as ever,” Tsunayoshi grumped and pouted at the diploma. _I don’t care what Reborn says! This is an accomplishment, and I’m gonna treat it like one!_

“Tsuna, Tsuna!” Takeshi called as he came trotting up, beaming as always, with his father watching with a pleased smile from a distance. “My old man says he’ll treat us to sushi tonight. Everyone is invited!”

“ _Awesome_!”

“I want sushi! I want sushi!” Lambo sprang out from the bushes where he had been presumably playing in the dirt looking for worms, as evidenced by the smears of soil he left on Tsuna’s uniform pants as he pawed at them. Tsunayoshi recoiled with a whine, looking dejectedly at the streaks of brown disfiguring his pants. Lambo skipped over to Takeshi and began running circles around him, bleating about sushi. The afroed boy had undergone a similar growth spurt, only slightly shorter than Reborn, but he had not acquired much in the way of maturity. Takeshi laughed good-naturedly and patted Lambo on the head affectionately. _Nothing ever dampens Yamamoto’s spirits,_ Tsunayoshi thought warmly.

“Hey, little brat, you’re so loud,” Hayato griped as he strolled up with his hands in his pockets, and his diploma tucked in a back one. Scowling, he pushed on the back of Lambo’s head with the sole of his shoe. Though it couldn’t have hurt much, Lambo still took great offense. The little boy plopped down on his behind and began to bawl, screaming about how mean Hayato was to him. “Shut up, you baby! I didn’t hurt you!”

“Gokudera! Stop tormenting my dear sweet Lambo!” Tsunayoshi narrowed his eyes at the familiar but very out-of-place voice. Haru came running into the schoolyard to scoop Lambo up and press him into her bosom. Lambo cooed and snuggled into her breasts, clearly with lascivious intent, but Haru nuzzled his fuzzy head endearingly.

“What are you even doing here?!” the bomb expert griped. She shot him a seditious pout and a stony glare.

“I came to see Tsuna graduate, of course! Our school just finished, so I rushed over here. And what do I find? Gokudera is as much a villain as always!”

“Oh, _can_ it, stalker!”

“I am not a stalker! I am a lady in love!”

Tsunayoshi abandoned the duo to their quibbling and pushed himself over his tip-toes, head craned back to scan the many craniums of the students mingling in the courtyard. He did not find who he was looking for, but close enough. He could hear Ryohei screaming about the usual nonsense from a mile away. _Wherever Ryohei is, Kyoko must be!_ he thought and pushed into the crowd.

Tsunayoshi was still small compared to his peers, so squeezing through the many chattering students was a chore. He followed Ryohei’s crowing and howling laughter towards the center of the mass of people. With a grunt, he pushed through two very stocky football players before stumbling out into a circle of green grass. Tsking, he smoothed out the creases in his shirt and pants and fixed his fluffy bangs, then inhaled deeply and straightened his back. He fingered the box-shaped lump in his front pocket nervously, eyeing the beautiful young girl chatting amiably with her overzealous boxer brother.

_All right, Tsuna! It’s now or never!_

“Kill him! Kill the Vongola Tenth!”

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” Tsunayoshi screeched in anger and torn at his orangey-caramel hair in frustration. As machine-gun fire ripped across the yard, the new graduates erupted into confused screams and scattered like marbles. Thankfully, whoever was attacking only meant to entice the Vongola family into retaliating, so the fire harmlessly rained down into the grass and concrete. Ryohei shoved Kyoko behind him and threw up his fists, while Tsunayoshi begrudgingly trotted over to stand beside him.

“What cowards! Show your faces and fight like a man!” Ryohei yowled and shook his bandage-wrapped fists.

“Can they not?” Tsunayoshi replied with a groan. “Can they just go home?” The yard had thinned in a matter of seconds; all the crowd had spilled out into the streets and run for cover, leaving just the mafia family behind. Takeshi had drawn his katana and Hayato his bombs. Kyoya (who had been lounging around the school though he had graduated before them) was standing across the yard with his tonfa, frowning. Chrome, brandishing her trident, scampered up with Haru clinging to the hem of her shirt. Lambo was sitting in a puddle of his tears, and Reborn was nonchalantly sipping the last dregs of his coffee.

“Reborn! Do you have any idea who these thugs are?” The Vongola Tenth asked his tutor. Reborn pretended not to hear him. “You little-! Gaaaaaah, let’s just get this over with,” Tsunayoshi huffed and activated his Dying Will Flame, alighting his forehead with the orange glow and materializing his gloves on his hands. “Come out!”

“Yeah, so I can blow you all to Hell!” Hayato sneered. Dozens of armed men in black suits appeared on the rooftops, with a man in a mink overcoat at their head.

“My name is- Hey, what the fu-?” Tsunayoshi didn’t give the mafia leader a chance to introduce himself, instead opting to blast his way up to the roof and drop-kick him in the face. As their leader slid across the tiled roof with an imprint of Tsunayoshi’s shoe across his forehead, the underlings could only gawk at Tsunayoshi’s malice and prowess. Tsunayoshi, his expression blank, flexed his fingers.

“ _One_ day. Can’t I have _one day_ without some goons crashing in and threatening my life and the lives of my friends? Seriously, did it have to be _graduation_ day?” Tsunayoshi griped as he advanced on the man, who was now crawling away on his hands and knees blubbering. The men around Tsunayoshi howled angrily and trained their weapons on him, but before any of them could fire a single shot, his Guardians jumped into the fray. Within seconds, the attackers’ formation crumbled into chaos. Tsunayoshi ignored the mania to stride over to the leader.

“Have mercy!” the leader pleaded as he pressed back against the roof’s wall, shaking like a leaf and staring fearfully at Tsunayoshi. Using Leon in the form of a mini-helicopter, Reborn perched himself atop the fence and tutted at the poor excuse of a man.

“How shameful. Did you really think you could take on the Vongola Tenth with such a small force and such little resolve? This is an insult.”

Tsunayoshi smothered his Dying Will flame and pouted up at his tutor.

“Rebornnnnn, please don’t tell me this was some kind of training exercise or scheme…”

“Of course not. Even I am kind enough to allow you to enjoy your graduation day.”

“Y-you asshole! How dare you patronize me!” the mafia boss screamed and lunged at Tsunayoshi. A knife glinted in the sunlight, shooting towards Tsunayoshi’s throat, but his hyper-intuition made dodging it an easy task. The young Vongola Tenth side-stepped the attack, leaving the manic man stumbling across the roof. Takeshi dispatched him with a neck-chop to his pressure point, and he crumpled like a doll.

“That was no fun. I wanted a challenge,” the swordsman whined and sheathed his katana.

“I would rather not have to deal with stuff like this at all! One day! Just one! That’s all I want!” Tsunayoshi argued. Takeshi just laughed animatedly, like he always did, squinting his eyes happily. When he stopped, he glanced down at the ground with a confused grunt.

“Oh? Tsuna, what’s that?”

Tsunayoshi knew exactly was Takeshi was referring to and released a high-pitched screech, but before he could retrieve the precious object, Lambo scampered over and swiped it.

“No! Lambo! Give it back!” he wailed and chased the afroed, horned child across the roof. Lambo screamed elatedly, pleased with the chase, and opened the box as he ran in circles with Tsunayoshi in hot pursuit.

“A ring! It’s a ring!” Everyone froze, including the girls, who had just mounted the steps.

“Ahhhhhh! Tsuna is finally going to make Haru his mafia wife!” Haru trilled and clasped her hands beside her cheek. Clenching his teeth, Tsunayoshi shot her an incredulous look before lunging for Lambo, who had stopped running in his bewilderment of everyone’s reactions. He yelped as Tsunayoshi snatched the ring box and hid it behind his back.

“Lambo’s lying! It’s _not_ a ring!”

“Uh, yeah it is, Sawada,” Kyoya blinked disinterestedly. Tsunayoshi growled at him, infuriated that he was no help to his cause; it was just par for the course, because since when did Kyoya care about anything but his naps and the middle school?

“Who’s it for? Who’s it _for_ , Tsuna?” Ryohei grinned and bolted over to shake him. Tsunayoshi released startled gasps as his brain rattled in his skull along with all his other bones under the boxer’s relentless jarring.

“Gah! Ah! For the love of-! Kyoko! It’s for Kyoko!” he choked out. Ryohei ceased shaking him to gawk stupidly at him. Tsunayoshi went pink from the base of his neck to the top of his forehead. He shouldered away from his Sun Guardian, fidgeting with the box incessantly. Kyoko gawked wide-eyed at him from across the roof, mouth agape. _Ugh! I had wanted to do this in private, but since when does anything in my life go as planned?_ he lamented. He cleared his throat before striding over to the girl, trying to seem dignified. It was a meaningless effort, because his knees buckled as soon as he reached her. “K-kyoko,” he stammered, then swallowed thickly, hating how quivery his voice was. He tried again, opening the box as he did so to reveal a silver band with a tiny pink opal in the center.

“K-Kyoko, this isn’t how I wanted this to go, but…. I’ve loved you for a long time. You were the motivation to get me through the hardest parts of my life. This is a promise ring,” he explained with a glance down at the jewelry. “M-my life is really dangerous now, with the mafia and all, and because of that, I’ve put your life in danger far too many times… B-but, with this ring, I promise to protect you, always, a-a-and love you w-with everything I h-h-have…” His voice grew high-pitched and trembly at the end, making his blush redden to a tomato color. With shaking lips and shaking hands, he extended the ring to her. “P-please be my girlfriend, Kyoko!”

“Nice delivery,” Hayato muttered sarcastically, which made him hunch his shoulders up to his ears. He heard Hayato yelp as his sister slapped him upside the head. Still, he kept his eyes firmly locked on Kyoko’s face, watching as she studied the ring curiously. His breath halted as she reached out with slim fingers to pull the ring from the box and admire it in the sunlight. The little pink opal sparkled beautifully, but not nearly as wonderfully as her eyes, Tsunayoshi thought. His heart somersaulted in his ribcage as she smiled broadly and slipped the ring onto her right ring finger.

“I accept.”

“Yes!” Tsunayoshi howled and threw his hands in the air triumphantly. “Kyoko said she’ll go out with me! This is the best day of my life!”

“ _Sawada_!” Tsunayoshi cringed and hid behind Kyoko as Ryohei barked his name. He hunched down to peer above Kyoko’s tiny shoulder, watching fearfully as her elder brother stomped across the roof to cross his arms and glowers down at him.

“R-ryohei, I can explain…”

“No. I’ve heard enough,” he grunted with a stern expression. Tsunayoshi whined and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for one of the boxer’s devastating punches. Instead, he felt a hand ruffling his fluffy hair. He cracked an eye open to see Ryohei grinning and even crying a little. “This is _so_ exciting! I know you will take care of my sweet little sister.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, big brother. You’re the one who needs taking care of, getting beat up all the time!”

“Heyyy, Kyoko, that was so mean…”

“So are Tsuna and Kyoko getting married?” Lambo asked Chrome while sucking on his index finger.

“No, no, they are just dating,” the illusionist responded. “I think…”

“Hey! This is just one more thing to celebrate over sushi!” Takeshi laughed good-naturedly.

“I’m leaving,” Kyoya snorted and whirled on his heel to begin striding for the stairs. He bristled when Takeshi clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned him around.

“Come on, Hibari, don’t be such a stick in the mud! Surely you like sushi? My father makes the best.” Kyoya glowered before clicking his tongue thoughtfully.

“Do you have tuna sashimi?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. But I’m going for the sashimi, not because we’re friends.”

“Sure, sure.”

Tsunayoshi watched fondly as his friends rejoiced on the rooftop, smiling alighting their faces like beacons as always. As Ryohei scampered over to throw his arms around a laughing Takeshi’s shoulders, Kyoko looked at him with a sweet smile, making Tsunayoshi’s heart stop in his chest.

“You’ll keep your promise, won’t you, Tsuna?” He blinked, then smiled lovingly at the girl he had adored for the longest time.

“Of course, Kyoko. I’ll protect you with my life. I swear it.” His eyes snapped wide open when she leaned in to press a small kiss to his cheek, leaving bright pink heat in her wake.

“Good- but don’t be in a hurry to throw your life away. I’d miss you so much, Tsuna.” Smiling charmingly, she skipped over to Haru and Chrome, wherein they cooed over the pretty pink-gemmed ring. Tsunayoshi slowly raised a hand to his cheek, a smile slowly spreading over his face.

“I’m proud of you, Tsuna,” Reborn remarked and patted the back of his thigh. “I never thought you’d do it, really.” 

“It’s all thanks to you, Reborn. You gave me courage.”

“No,” the mafioso retorted with a sly smirk. “You always had the courage. I just taught you how to find it.” Tsunayoshi nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. You sure did, Reborn.”


	5. Between the Book Spines

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Kyoya Hibari, Kyoko Sasagawa

Additional Tags: Bookstore AU

_Greetings, all~! Here’s my story for Day 4 of Katekyo Hitman Reborn! RarePair Week, for the prompt “Bookshop AU”! Happy reading! <3_

Kyoko could get lost in it all- the heavy aroma of parchment painting the air, the flutter of flipping pages and shuffling of quiet footsteps, the rows and rows of colorful book spines stretching to the back of the story like towering forest trees. She thought that at least once a day, leaning over the cashier’s counter with a cheek in one hand while her deft fingers flipped through an illustrated fantasy novel. Many people read simply to escape reality into faraway, fictional lands. The escapism was all well and good, but Kyoko loved the bookstore itself. It was a gateway full of countless doors, doors for all different kinds and desires. It was the most magical place on Earth, more magical than any of the realities inked within the many, many pages.

Kyoko straightened up when the little bell on the front door chimed, indicating the arrival of a customer. She called a cheerful greeting and asked if she could help, which was customary, but the patron did not reply. He never did; that’s how Kyoya Hibari was. However, he always answered her more pertinent question.

“Did you enjoy the last book?”

“Indeed.” He always answered as such. He strolled over to the “new arrivals” bookstand beside the front door, pausing to scratch the shop owner’s fluffy, fat cat behind his ears. Kyoko watched him with intense wonder and curiosity. Kyoya Hibari was a regular customer to the bookstore, but she had hardly heard more than a few words out of him out of the countless interactions they’d had.

Kyoya Hibari was slightly older than her, a high school third-year. He was the head of the disciplinary committee, a position he had relished since his time in middle school. Thus, he held high power and authority. His status naturally landed him in the eyes and thoughts of every hopeful young girl in the three-story building. He was the school’s heartthrob. Too bad Kyoya cared not for fledgling school romances. He also held the reputation of a ruthless heartbreaker, bluntly refusing every poor soul who dared toss her heart to him. Kyoya swatted a confession away like a disinterested cat and sauntered away, leaving the heartbroken girls sobbing in the halls and classrooms.

Kyoko hummed thoughtfully as she watched him peruse the selection. His calm and aloof demeanor certainly lent to the rumors; she’d never once seen him smile. _Still… Can he be that cold-hearted?_

“You’ve been staring a while. Is there something on my face?” Kyoko flushed when he suddenly turned his piercing gaze on her. His black eyes shone like polished obsidian, hard-edged and shining. Still, she detected no malice there, not even a glimmer of annoyance. More like… amused curiosity. Rubbing her pink cheek with an index finger, she regarded him enquiringly.

“No. I was just thinking about what all the girls say at school.”

“And _what_ do they say?” he smirked, plucking a courtroom drama from the shelf and striding over to the counter. His every move exuded confidence and pride; he moved like a lithe panther, fluid and dangerous and _riveting_. Kyoko found herself involuntarily straightening up when he leaned over the counter to trace his index finger over the inked pages of her fantasy novel.

“They say you’re a cold-hearted, mean boy who won’t let anyone in. You don’t bare your heart to anybody.” He blinked, and then his mouth curled into a devilish smirk. Despite his attempts to seem amused, however, Kyoko saw a flash of pain in those obsidian eyes.

“They’re right. I don’t.” The blunt admission startled her, making her swallow thickly. _What a mysterious boy. He comes right out and admits it, yet I have the feeling he’s not entirely truthful._ The hardback binding of the courtroom drama scraped over the counter as he pushed it forward. “Just this, please.”

“That will be 1500 yen.” He fished over the proper amount of bills and dropped it into her hand, then grabbed the book. He never asked for a paper bag. He tucked it under his arm and headed for the door; the little bell chimed as he pushed it open, piercing the air like a cry of lament. He paused in the threshold and glanced over his shoulder at her.

“They’re all troublesome, those girls. They don’t care about my heart at all. To them, I’m just a pretty face.” Kyoko watched with wide eyes as he strode out of the bookshop. Her gaze trailed him through the clear glass window until he disappeared from her line of sight. The fat cat meowed and hopped onto the counter, butting her chest demanding pets. Robotically she complied, still gawking at the space he had melted behind the brick.

_Kyoya Hibari… What a fascinating boy._

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day he came, it was raining. Business was always mind-numbingly slow on rainy days, so Kyoko was reclined in one of the store’s bean bag chairs in the front lobby, flipping through a historical fiction novel. The drumming rain cascading down the glass gave the light a marbled effect, and the rhythmic pounding was the perfect level of ambient noise to help Kyoko concentrate on the book. Suddenly, the little bell chimed gleefully, and the fat cat mewed invitingly. When Kyoko peered over the top of the book, there Kyoya was, scratching the cat’s belly and poring over the “new arrivals” stand.

“Did you enjoy the last book?”

“Indeed,” he answered without looking at her. He plucked a book from the stand and read the summary before putting it back. “I enjoy reading about law and order.” Kyoko giggled, and in response, he peeked at her through his peripheral vision. “Is that amusing to you?”

“A little. You’re head of the disciplinary committee; I’m sure rules and order are something you enjoy very much. It’s just a little funny to hear you say it aloud.” He blinked slowly at her, not unlike a cat. The corner of his mouth then twitched upward into a wry smile.

“I suppose.” He retrieved another book from the stand, a biography of a civil rights activist. He tossed it up into the air by the spine, watching it twirl before catching it. Kyoko jumped when he abruptly rounded on her. “And what do _you_ enjoy, Miss Sasagawa?” She admittedly flushed at the proper use of her name. Of course, he knew her name; it was written plainly on her nametag, and she had introduced herself to him as such. Yet, it made her feel… happy that he called her by name.

She closed the book and showed him the front cover.

“Love stories! This is a Victorian-era love story.” She imagined Kyoya had no interest in romances, given his track record of purchases from the bookstore, but he admired the tome with slight interest. He quirked his eyebrow, clearly asking for more details. “It tells the story of a young maid who works for a rich banker. He refuses to marry because he believes that all women love him for his money.”

“Why does that sound familiar?” Kyoya snorted in laughter. Kyoko blinked, then looked at the illustrated couple on the front cover. She then snickered. Now that she thought about it, the wealthy banker’s plight definitely resembled Kyoya’s present reality. Smirking, Kyoya sunk into one of the armchairs and crossed his legs. “What happens to this young banker? Do you know?”

“Oh, yes. This is one of my favorite love stories,” she nodded excitedly. “The banker marries the maid, because she was the only one who ever loved him for himself.” The smile fell from his face, returning that dull blank stare to his features. He gave her that slow, cat-like blink, but she could read nothing from the countless emotions swirling in those onyx irises of his. Slowly, he rose from the chair and regarded his chosen book as if it were suddenly the most uninteresting scientific dissertation.

“I wonder,” he breathed distantly, almost to himself. “I wonder.” Stiffly, he plodded to the counter and placed 1500 yen’s worth of bills on the wood. “The same price as usual, yes?” Kyoko tossed the book aside and jumped up.

“Y-Yes, but-!”

“Good-bye.” Then he was gone, the little doorbell wailing his parting. He plunged into the rain without even bothering to retrieve his umbrella from the small stand by the door. The fat cat sprung down from the windowsill and wound around her legs, purring thunderously. Kyoko wrung her hands thoughtfully, the image of his back still burning in her eyes.

_Kyoya Hibari… Just what were you thinking, then?_

~~~~~~~~~~

He came again the following week. The wee bell tinkled his coming like the greeting of a long-parted friend. Kyoko stood within the stacks on a stepladder stocking the teen romance section. Through the gap between the row of novels and the wooden shelf, she could observe him scratching the massive cat on his haunches, with his other hand under his chin as he searched the “new arrivals” shelf for his latest read.

“Did you enjoy the last book?”

“Indeed,” he affirmed. Kyoko smiled, taking comfort in the ritualistic aspect of their interactions. She had come quite to enjoy his routine visits; the simple idea of looking forward to his coming was soothing, in a way. After he had stormed out so suddenly the previous week, she was slightly afraid he would not come back again.

“Hibari-” she began as she carefully climbed down the stepladder.

“You may call me Kyoya.” She paused halfway down the steps to gape at him surprisingly. His mischievous grin flashed at her through the bookshelves’ gaps. “I feel we are well acquainted enough for a mutual first-name basis, eh, _Kyoko_?” Her hand flew to her breast on reflex when her heart somersaulted in her chest, and her cheeks blazed bright pink. His obsidian eyes glinted at her from between the book spines, waiting, measuring to see if she would take offense. How could she? All her peers would kill to be on a first-name basis with the handsome Hibari Kyoya. Swallowing thickly, she peered around the bookshelf at him.

“Y-yes, I suppose so.”

“You have something on your mind,” he remarked. Kyoko sunk her teeth into her bottom lip; how could read her so effortlessly? She fisted the fabric of her sundress nervously, but she was not the type to lie or avert conversation away from a blatant question.

“You left so suddenly last time. I was afraid that I offended you in some way.” He stepped away from the display stand without even choosing a book, which made her eyes fly wide open. Kyoya always selected a new story to read; it was almost sacred practice by now. The routine was crumbling before her, and the deviation unsettled her. She retreated within the towering bookshelves as he approached her, and he stopped to loom over her with an amused yet regretful grin. He slipped his hands into his pants pockets, and bored deep into her soul with those eyes like pure polished hematite.

“And how could you offend me in any way?” His baritone voice rumbled, not unlike the fat house cat’s purr. The vibration rattled in Kyoko’s cells, making her body pulse with an electric energy unlike any she had ever experienced. “I left for personal reasons.”

“P-personal reasons?”

“Indeed.”

That was the first time Kyoko had ever seen Kyoya Hibari smile.

It was so warm, the way he looked at her, like a fire blazing to life in a long-cold hearth. Its heat pulsed in the small space between them, filling her to the brim with simmering fondness. She whispered his name but had no conscious intention of doing so. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles, and she instinctually leaned into the caress, craving so much more of his touch. “For a moment, I fancied myself the bachelor banker… But I was afraid that I would not find my maid.”

“What do you think now?”

“Well, that depends, Kyoko. Tell me… what do _you_ think about _me_?” Kyoko frowned as she considered how to formulate her genuine opinions of Kyoya. She knew he would not appreciate flowery words or placating lies, so she settled for brutal honesty.

“I think that you distance yourself from others because you are afraid that they won’t see you for what you truly are… and that saddens you. You come here to the bookstore to escape that sad reality, if only for a little while.” His face softened, and the hand caressing her cheekbone stilled to cup the entire side of her face.

“Astute observation, but it seems _one_ minor detail escaped your notice.” When she blinked inquisitively at him, he smirked, “I come to the bookstore to visit the one person who _does_ see me for who I really am.” Kyoko’s face burned with a fiery blush up to the tips of her ears, and the way her mouth wriggled unsurely made the stoic man chuckle softly. His hand dropped from her face to begin skipping along the book spines of the romance section.

“Are you… going to try a new kind of book today? You’ve never bought a romance novel before.”

“Indeed.” He smirked toothily at her. “I’m looking for a rather specific story, however. It’s one of a cold-hearted, mean disciplinary committee president who bared his heart to a bookstore attendant. Do you happen to know it?” Kyoko could not help but squeal, clap her hands on her cheeks, and whirl on her heel. _Who knew Kyoya was such a smooth talker?! Oh, my heart is going to beat right out of my chest!_ “Kyoko.” She whirled back around with a very loud “hmm?!” to find Kyoya replacing a book to the shelf. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Do have the story in stock.” With a final, cocky smirk and a glint in those obsidian eyes, he promptly took his leave, forsaking Kyoko to short-circuit in the stacks. The little bell signaled his departure, tinkling a promise of short return.

“Oh my. Oh my!” Kyoko whispered under her breath as she paced violently in the two-foot-wide stretch of hallway between the bookshelves. In one turn of her frantic striding, she spied a strip of paper peeking out between two book spines where Kyoya had been messing around just a few minutes ago. She sank to her knees when she discovered his phone number written on it. “Oh my! Oh gosh! The other girls will kill me for this, but- _ah_!” she screamed and hugged the scrap of paper to her chest. The bulky, fluffy cat came sauntering up with his feathery tail swaying, rubbing his head against Kyoko’s bent knee.

“Can you believe it, big guy? I finally get my own love story!” she beamed and pulled the purring creature into her lap to happily rub his furry tummy.

A love story indeed, one not written within any leather book spine in the entirety of the world… One that was her own, and that was real.


	6. Unexpected Guest

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Chrome Dokuro, Ken Joshima

Ken’s eyes were lidded as he gazed disinterestedly out of the cracked window in the Kokuyo Land administrative building. He’d flipped a wooden chair around to sit on, leaning against the wicker back to stare out into the abandoned amusement park. Though it was only the beginning of December, the snow fell heavily, smothering the collapsed attractions and dilapidated building in a thick blanket of white. The winter chill seeped in through the small crevice to spread a numbing cold over his nose. He wrinkled it to stave off the deadening sensation creeping into his face, then groaned and pressed his cheek into his forearm. He bounced his legs incessantly, but the repetitive motions failed to channel the nervous energy sparking inside him like a roaring fire. 

“Boooooored- _byon_!” he whined loudly. His voice bounced in the empty room to echo hollowly in his ears. He half expected Chikusa to come scold him for his troublesome loudness, but the bespectacled boy failed to take Ken’s bait. Ken whined and licked at his fanged teeth, watching the snow continue to fall outside. He traced the fluttering paths of the snowflakes with dull brown-orange eyes. 

Ken managed to occupy himself with that for about ten seconds until the agonizing boredom crept back in. Yowling angrily, he jumped up from the wooden chair and kicked it. The chair rattled a few inches to the left before becoming unbalanced and crashing onto its side. Ken grimaced as portions of the old, worn wicker fragmented onto the concrete floor. _Old piece of garbage,_ he thought and shoved his hands into the pockets of his deep green uniform pants. 

A certain pineapple-haired girl suddenly sprung into his mind. 

“I wonder what Chrome’s doing,” he pondered aloud, rubbing his chin. Though she’d transferred to Namimori Middle School and spent a significant amount of time with the two girls who hung around the Vongola Family, Chrome still lived in the abandoned amusement part with Mukuro and the rest of his subordinates. 

Her unconditional support for their boss was endearing but bordering on annoying, at least to Ken. _She follows him around like a lost puppy- **byon** , _he thought with a small growl. Sometimes it felt like she wanted nothing to do with Ken and Chikusa… _Humph. Not that I care- **byon**! I don’t need her, just Mukuro-sama and Kakipi! _he thought haughtily. Ken told himself that, but it never erased the dull ache that bloomed inside him whenever he thought about the timid girl. 

With another wolfish growl, he kicked the overturned chair again. 

Ken whirled on his heel and stomped out of the room. He certainly wasn’t going to find anything entertaining in there. Slouching with irritation, he trotted down to the lower level to see if he could find anyone to satiate his boredom for a little while. 

He happened upon Chikusa after about five minutes of wandering the complex, stretched out on a ripped sofa while lazily flinging his yo-yo around. A wide window stretched across the wall’s expanse, showing the snow-laden area surrounding the administrative building. “Kakipi!” Ken called as he trotted in. Chikusa leisurely rolled his head to blink lazily at Ken. 

“Oh. Hey,” Chikusa responded calmly. He continued to slowly swing his yo-yo in circles as he regarded the blond boy. Ken realized immediately that Chikusa would be useless in satiating his boredom, so he looked around interestedly. 

“Where is she- _byon_?” Chikusa knew exactly who Ken was referring to. The boy exhaled as he pulled himself into a sitting position, finally stowing his yo-yo and looking at Ken with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“She went to Vongola’s. She said that the girls- Haru and Kyoko- were throwing her a birthday party.” Ken blinked blankly at Chikusa. _A birthday party?_ “Chrome’s birthday is today.” Chikusa continued to throw the reeling Ken over the precipice of realization. When he finally fell over the edge, Ken’s cheeks brightened with embarrassment, and he flailed his arms a little. 

“B-birthday- _byon_? She never told me!” Ken complained angrily. Chikusa shrugged indifferently and rose to his feet. 

“I’m pretty sure you were present when she mentioned it in conversation, but it’s also likely that you weren’t listening.” 

Ken scowled and pointed vexedly at Chikusa. 

“That’s mean- _byon_!” He refrained from agreeing that it was also probably true. With a huff, Ken slammed his hands back down into his pockets. _That silly girl…_ Ken wasn’t frustrated that she wandered off to hang out with the Vongola family; she did it frequently. For some reason, he was frustrated with himself for forgetting her birthday. _Why should I care- **byon**? _Loathe as he was to admit it, care he did. Snorting, he whirled on his heel. “I’m going out!” he announced to Chikusa before promptly making his exit. 

When he pushed the glass doors of the administrative building open, the wind jumped forth, blasting snow flurries into the lobby. The skin of Ken’s face prickled as little barbs of ice slammed into his flesh, so he hurriedly turned up the collar of his army-green uniform to shield at least the bottom half of his face from the gale. Absently, he hoped Chrome had decided to wear leggings. She always pranced around in that skirt, after all; if she stepped out like that in such inclement weather, her legs would be icicles before she even left the complex. _Who gives a damn? Let her freeze if she’s gonna be that stupid- **byon**!_ He thought gruffly to try and distract himself from the little beast of worry gnawing on his insides. 

Ken trotted through the well-worn and disheveled concrete pathways meandering through the forgotten amusement park. The snow crunched loudly under the repeated plops of his boots into the calf-high snowdrifts, complimenting the wailing wind and rattling bare tree branches in a strange, ghostly harmony. He cursed as the hems of his pants legs grew sodden with ice-cold water and clung to his ankles and lower calves, siphoning his body heat away with frightening efficiency. “Soon it’ll be _my_ legs that’re icicles,” he grumped to himself. 

As he came to the base of the inclined path and onto the road proper, which was thankfully plowed, he shook his legs vigorously to dislodge the clumps of snow and water droplets as much as he could. With a small sigh, he looked off into the distance, bitterly observing the cloud-choked, bleary gray sky and the snow piled on the horizon. Was he _really_ about to hike to Namimori for that spacey, dopey girl? 

_ Of course he was _ . Eyes lidded as he resolved himself to follow his incessantly nagging shred of human decency, he began tramping down the fringe of the road. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Ken cursed through chattering teeth as he kicked the gate to Tsunayoshi Sawada’s front yard open. As the black metal clanged harshly against the concrete wall outlining the quaint little home, clumps of snow slipped off the gate to plop into the drifts below. Ken was grateful that the stone pathway leading to the small porch had been cleaned because his socks and shoes were so soggy that he’d scream if they absorbed any more water. 

Hands buried as deep into his pockets as they could go and collar snug against his face, he stiffly stomped up to the front door and rang the doorbell by hiking up his leg and planting his shoe against it. A chorus of surprised voices echoed in the small two-story homes as the pleasant chime rang through the rooms. 

“Oh? Chrome, dear, were you expecting any more guests?” came an older woman’s voice that Ken assumed belonged to the young Vongola Tenth’s mother. Ken hunched a little further into his damp jacket when the woman opened the door, revealing a pleasant smile and a friendly face framed by orangey-brown hair. “Hello there! You must be one of the boys I’ve heard so much about. Ooooh, let me guess-” she interrupted before he could introduce himself, placing the pad of her index finger on his lips as she studied him with bright eyes. He jumped a little when she clapped her hands together. “Are you Ken?” 

A faint blush deepened the already pink, wind-raw skin of his cheeks. He just nodded in affirmation, making the young mother trill and do a little dance of joy. “Ahaha, I guessed right! <3” By this time, Chrome had meandered out of whatever room she was hanging out with the Vongolas to peer curiously around the woman’s form at the snow-sodden blond. 

“Ken? What are you doing here?” she questioned innocently. Anger brought a blush to his cheeks this time, and as he stamped his foot hotly against the porch, a few blobs of wet snow shifted off the awning to join the white layer coating the yard. 

“Why do ya think I’m here- _byon_?” he mocked arrogantly. Chrome’s big purple eye blinked slowly and uncomprehendingly. Tsunayoshi’s mother hummed puzzledly as she looked back and forth between the clueless Chrome and the irritated blond dripping water on her porch. Finally, she laughed good-naturedly and grabbed Ken by the shoulders to all but yank him over the threshold of the door. 

“Now, now, no need to stand outside! Oh, look at you; you’re covered head-to-toe in snow! How far did you walk to end up like this?” she tutted as she bundled him inside, unzipping and removing his windbreaker jacket before he could even comprehend what was happening. The rest of the Vongolas, attracted by the commotion, came traipsing out of the kitchen to behold the shivering, cold, blushing Ken with mixtures of surprise, amusement, and indifference (in Kyoya Hibari’s case). 

The strange turn of events fried Ken’s brain, so all he could focus on is why the hell Kyoya was even there because he was an insufferable asshole with a stick constantly up his ass and didn’t seem the type to attend parties. Meanwhile, Tsunayoshi’s mother wandered off with his windbreaker in tow, humming a pleasant tune. 

“Nn,” Kyoya tutted and shoved a piece of hamburger steak in his mouth. “It’s one of the Kokuyo brats. Did you come so I could bite you to death?” he asked in that aggravating flat tone of his and drew his tonfa out of his uniform jacket.  _Why the hell does he have that- **byon**?!_

“Now, now, don’t act like that, Hibari!” Takeshi laughed pleasantly. “He’s Chrome’s friend; I’m sure he came to wish her happy birthday.” 

“Yeah? Why didn’t he just do it before she left?” Hayato grumped, slouching with his hands in his cargo pants pockets as he regarded Ken distrustfully. Ken’s face took on a bright pink hue from forehead to chin, and he swallowed the shameful admission that he’d not had any clue it was Chrome’s birthday at all. Thankfully, the girl refrained from outing him, continuing to stare inquisitively. 

“Humph. Why the interrogation- _byon_?” he snapped, turning up his nose disdainfully at the collection of young mafioso. “I just happened to be nearby! Do you really think I’d march all the way here for some lame birthday party?” The group collectively looked at the darkened fabric of his uniform pants, making him bristle. “Oi! The snow’s just deep! Stop staring- _byon_!” 

“Ken-kuuuuun~” Ken stiffened as the older woman’s voice floated down the stairs, ears reddening further as she so casually trilled his first name. “Here! I brought some of Tsuna’s clothes for you,” she announced brightly as she hopped down the steps carrying a few light garments. 

“Mom! Why?” Tsunayoshi protested loudly. She just tutted scoldingly and flashed him a disapproving look as she dropped the clothes into Ken’s arms. 

“Now, Tsuna! He is a guest just as much as anyone else. He trekked all the way here in the snow to come see Chrome! Why, it’s almost romantic~” she sighed and pressed her hand to her cheek with a girlish giggle. Ken choked on his breath and squeezed the garments to his chest, face turning an ugly purple-red color.  _Romantic- **byon**?! What’s with this lady? There’s nothing romantic about it! **Nothing**! I just-! I just wanted-! _

Ken’s gaze slid to Chrome, watching her purple eyes sparkle, and her cheeks flush with a carnation-pink hue. Huffing, he buried his face into the white shirt the woman had loaned him, sensitive nose flooding with the aroma of floral laundry detergent. “Ahaha! Anyway, Ken, dear, you should go upstairs and take a bath, hmm?” Tsunayoshi’s mother hummed as she pushed his upper back to propel him towards the stairs. “Tsuna, be a dear and show him where it is.” 

“What? Now he’s using our bath, too?!” the small-statured boy complained. Ken peered sourly at him, orange-brown eyes flashing just above the cloth of the shorts smooshed against his face, and Tsunayoshi squealed. “Okay, okay, okay! Fine, follow me,” he sighed in defeat and began tromping up the steps. Ken followed stiffly after him, ignoring Hayato’s comment that he should bathe because he smelled like a wet dog. Ken smiled slightly when the loud girl, Haru, slapped him upside the side of the head and called him rude. 

“Here we are,” Tsunayoshi said unenthusiastically as he stopped in front of the door to the bathroom. Ken continued to sulk at the unintended turn of events as he stared blankly at the door, waiting for the spiky-haired boy to retreat before entering. Tsunayoshi went to return down the stairs, then paused and looked up at Ken uncomfortably. “I, um… I know we aren’t exactly friends or anything, but…” he trailed off with a blush, twiddling his thumbs together as he fumbled over his words. “B-but I know aren’t a bad guy or anything, so you’re free to, you know, hang out as much as you want.” 

Tsunayoshi released a small “eep!” as Ken’s orange-brown eyes critically examined him for any distrust. _I don’t think he’s even capable of tricking someone,_ Ken then thought with a small snort. 

Tsunayoshi hurriedly scampered to the stairs, so Ken huffed and opened the bathroom door. He paused when Tsunayoshi came bounding up the steps again to breathlessly add, “B-by the way, Chrome is really happy you came to wish her a happy birthday!” Ken’s face flushed red, and he gawked at Tsunayoshi with wide eyes before looking down at his snow-soaked shoes. 

“Get lost- _byon_. I wanna shower.” Tsunayoshi blinked at him, but then smiled pleasantly. Ken’s blush darkened as the boy chimed something about seeing him downstairs before hurrying down to the first floor. 

Ken purposely avoided looking at his reflection as he shambled into the bathroom and set the clothes on the counter. He shrugged out of his shirt, grimacing at the way the cold fabric clung to his skin, and threw it into the corner. It landed against the tile with a wet slap. Before he shimmied out of his cargo pants, he carefully retrieved a small wrapped package from one of the deep pockets. He set it on the counter beside his change of clothes. 

He’d hate for her present to get crushed, after all. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Jeez, you guys are impatient- _byon_ ,” Ken whined loudly as someone knocked timidly on the door. He jumped up to tug the waistband of the pants around his hips before yanking up the zipper and clasping the button. Tsunayoshi was slightly shorter than him, so the pants’ hem rose above his ankles, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It wasn’t until Ken had sunk into the steaming warm bath water that he’d realized just how cold he was, and he had no care to slip back into his ice-cold clothes. 

Ken refrained from putting on a shirt to unlock the door instead. Tendrils of steam tickled his bare chest and droplets of water vapor exploded over his slightly heat-flushed skin as he did so. “What?” he asked bluntly as he swung the door open. 

He blushed as red as a tomato as Chrome unabashedly looked him up and down. Her big purple eyes blinked once before she looked up at his bright red face. 

“A blizzard,” she said simply. It took a few seconds for Ken to articulate the word, simple as it was. 

“A blizzard?” he echoed dumbly. Chrome nodded lightly and pointed a slim, dainty finger at the hallway window for good measure. Ken’s wide, orange-gold eyes followed the invisible line to the frosted glass pane. He then gasped and barreled past Chrome to adhere himself to the cold surface, too shocked to register the chill seeping into his exposed skin. “What the hell- _byon_?!” 

The wind shrieked voraciously beyond the thin clear panel. Snow flurries billowed in wild swirls through the neighborhood, darkened by the thick layer of stormy gray clouds choking the sky and blotting out the light. The snow piled up in giant plumes, burying cars and lawn ornaments deep beneath its thick white sheets and spilling over the fences to encroach upon the doorsteps. 

Ken felt his stomach plummet to his feet. There was no way that Tsunayoshi’s mother would let him leave the house with such inclement weather. To be quite honest, Ken absolutely did not want to trek back to the abandoned amusement park in the raging blizzard anyway. 

Ken peeled himself away from the window with a frustrated sigh while running his hand through his dampened blond hair. _Great,_ he thought bitterly. When he turned around, he believed that Chrome would have descended back to the party; instead, she remained in the hallway, staring at him with those big violet eyes. Ken jumped. 

“Damn it- _byon_! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“I’ve been here the whole time.” 

Ken growled under his breath and scratched at the back of his neck. His gaze slid to the bathroom, and then beyond to his wet pants still draped over the bathroom counter dripping icy water onto the floor- and then to the small white wrapped in simple blue yarn. A flush blazed across his cheeks. Chrome finally seemed to think that Ken did not want to hold a conversation; out of the corners of his eyes, he saw her twirl on her toes to head for the stairs. 

“W-wait!” he called before he could stop himself. Chrome turned around with her head cocked inquisitively. She regarded him with those big owlish eyes that he thought so unnerving but so damn cute too. Grumbling and alternating his arm positions to try and nonchalantly cover parts of his chest when he realized he was still shirtless, he gestured lamely at the little box she’d failed to notice. “P-present,” he offered sheepishly. 

Chrome continued to turn on the cloth pads of her socks until her violet eyes settled on the unassuming little package situated on the counter. With a small gasp of wonder, she padded into the small space to gingerly retrieve it. She tossed him a slight glance, almost as if asking permission to open it. “J-just don’t look at it, dumbass! Open it up- _byon_!” 

Perhaps it was the wisps of hot steam still curling throughout the room, but Ken noticed her cheeks turn slightly pink as she looked back to the small gift box and slowly pulled the string. 

Ken held his breath as she opened it with so much care that it was painful. Damn, did she want to kill him with anticipation? Why the hell did he care, anyway? His fingers twiddled anxiously by his thighs as he watched her flip the lid off. He couldn’t help but smirk satisfactorily as a delighted little gasp slipped past her lips. 

“Malt chocolate candy…” Chrome whispered. Once more, she turned that intense yet innocent gaze upon him, and a strange, warm sensation bubbled up inside of him. Happiness sparkled inside those amethyst eyes. It spread the warmth from the tips of his toes up to the crown of his head. 

“It’s your favorite. I remembered- _byon_ ,” Ken shrugged dispassionately, trying to belie the giddy lilt attempting to seep into his voice. “... Happy birthday,” he added after a few moments of silence. Heat began to creep into his face, and he rubbed compulsively at the wispy hairs hugging the back of his neck. Chrome hugged the package of chocolate to her chest and flashed him a rare, elated smile. 

“Thank you, Ken.” 

Normally, Ken would snap something snarky and shut her down, push her away before she could come too close. But not this time. Basking in the honey-glow of that serene smile pervaded down to his soul, Ken allowed her in, enabled her to see just a glimmer of the feelings he tried so desperately to suppress. 

“You’re welcome, Chrome.” 

The softness in his voice surprised them both. Their eyes simultaneously blew wide, and their gazes snapped away at the same time. Chrome covered his mouth as his entire face burned pink. _Why did I say it like that- **byon**? I can’t believe myself; dumbass…! _As Ken reeled in his stupidity, he paid no attention to Chrome. That is until he was forced to- when she scampered up to him with the open package of malt chocolate candy. 

“Here. Have some.” 

Ken jerked at her soft voice suddenly sounding at his shoulder. He glanced wildly from her face down to the candy, struggling to process the turn of events. 

“That’s yours,” Ken finally sputtered. Chrome’s purple eyebrows twitched, the only flicker of emotion on her once-again blank slate of a face. 

“I want to share it. It’s my present; I can decide what I want to do with it, and I have decided to share.” Her infallible logic obliterated any chance Ken had of refusing. Frowning, he dropped his hand from his still-burning face to break a piece of the chocolate away and pop it into his mouth. It was _okay_ ; Ken didn’t know why the girl adored the stuff so much. 

But, when she slipped her piece of chocolate past her lips, and her face immediately softened into bliss, Ken felt the hot rush of pride flush through his system. _He_ put that expression on her face. 

“See?” Ken blinked when she interrupted his silent gloating. “Isn’t it good?” 

“Yeah.” Not really a lie, but not really a truth; Ken just wanted to keep that smile on her face. Chrome giggled, and the sound almost made Ken faint. 

Ken never could understand how Rokudo could rope such an angelic, pure girl into his devious little network of pawns. Chrome was so pure that it almost burned Ken’s eyes to ash every time he looked at her. Angelic, sweet, innocent… Everything Ken definitely did _not_ deserve. 

As he was reminded of that fact, the bitterness seeped into his features, poisoning whatever happy expression that had appeared on his face. 

“I have to put finish getting dressed,” he grunted as a lame way to excuse himself from the discussion. Chrome blinked curiously at him as he shouldered past her to walk back to the bathroom. He was fully intent on closing the door behind him, but limber Chrome had planted herself in the threshold sooner than he could even grab the wooden door. He scowled but decided it was not worth arguing. He instead grabbed the graphic tee patterned with some dorky anime character and slipped it over his head. 

“Ken?” 

“What?” he sighed, popping his head through the hole in the shirt to glare exasperatedly at her. Chrome’s dark lashes fluttered before she continued. 

“Thank you for coming all the way here.” 

Ken thought she would leave it at that, and so opened his mouth to gripe some abrasive response. Whatever he had intended to say died an ember in his throat when she leaned forward to place a feather-light kiss on his cheek. The flesh instantly flooded with blood, spreading fire through the tissue and making his nerves spark into overdrive. He gawked stupidly at her as she retreated with a coquettish smile. 

“I do hope you’ll come join us downstairs. Maman made dinner. She’s an excellent cook.” Without waiting for an answer, she whirled on her feet and descended rapidly down the stairs. He could hear her munching on the chocolate as she plonked down the steps. She paused halfway down and looked up at him blankly. “You should come with me more often. Maman’s favorite guests are the unexpected ones.” He watched her go with a mixture of feelings swirling around inside of him, robotically slipping his arms through the sleeves of the tee-shirt. 

A smile spread wide across his face. His heart fluttered in his chest like a baby bird fumbling into its first flight. As he walked out of the bathroom, he glanced back at the window and the blizzard raging beyond. 

“Unexpected guests,” he scoffed with a dopey smile. “Yeah, okay…” 

Ken followed after Chrome, tromping down the steps two at a time. Who was he, an acknowledged guest, to say no to a free dinner? Besides… He wanted to make sure those yahoos of the Vongola family didn’t ruin Chrome’s special day, too. 

After all, he’d come here to make sure it was the best one possible… Regardless of whether he was ready to admit that to Chrome yet or not. 

The blizzard yowled faintly at him as he passed the front door, but Ken didn’t mind it. The storm whirling inside him had dimmed considerably, and the winds all but died as Chrome smiled prettily at him from her seat at the kitchen table. He stopped just out of sight for one brief second to savor the expression that was just for him. 

_ Unexpected guest, huh? Sure beats hanging out at that old dump all the time. Next time, at least I won’t have to hike the whole way alone.  _

Smiling, Ken strolled into the room and was instantly greeted with many loud voices and Chrome’s sweet, quiet one. 


	7. Healing Hands and Battle Scars

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Tsunayoshi Sawada, Kyoko Sasagawa

Requested By: kiralushia (Tumblr) 

**_Alternatum to Our Scars_ **

"Hello, Mrs. Sawada!" Kyoko announced cheerfully from the landing as she removed her shoes and placed them neatly beside Tsunayoshi's sneakers. She was surprised to find the entryway unusually empty; neither Haru, Hayato, nor Takeshi had come calling today. The recently waxed wooden floor squeaked slightly as the cotton fabric of Kyoko's socks rubbed against the boards. Tsunayoshi's mother’s merry response floated out of the kitchen to greet the young girl as she strolled down the hall toward the stairs. 

"Good afternoon, Kyoko! I'm preparing dinner now. Tsuna is upstairs; go say hello to him and keep him company until the food's ready!" 

Kyoko had half a mind to refuse the meal as social etiquette would dictate, but she knew well enough that Mrs. Sawada would keep insisting until she finally caved. 

"Thank you, ma'am!" she called back before skipping up the stairs. "Tsunaaaaa! Good afternoon!" she shouted to announce her presence. The boy's bedroom door was slightly ajar, spilling the waning daylight into the comparatively gloomy hallway. Kyoko knitted her eyebrows when she heard Tsunayoshi make as if to respond, only for his greeting to veer off into pained yelps and shouts. "Tsuna? Are you all right?" she asked as she walked forward and pushed the door open. 

The budding mafioso sat in the middle of his floor, wearing only a pair of boxers as he tended to the myriad of bruises, scratches, and scrapes marring his thin but toned body. Kyoko only blinked, more concerned about his injuries than the fact he was nearly naked. In the infancy of his blooming Dying Will powers, he'd run around in his underwear all the time, so it honestly didn't faze her. 

Tsunayoshi flashed her a disconcerted frown when she entered the room, then realized it was her and jumped. 

"Ah! Kyoko! I thought you were my mom!" he yelped and snatched the comforter off his bed to wrap it around his person. Kyoko laughed good-naturedly and sat on her knees beside him, brushing a few bandage wrappers aside. The boy exhaled heavily, wincing as he stretched out one of his legs to display a nasty scrape adorning his knee. “That Reborn… He’s killing me with all this training!” 

It was a sad fact that Kyoko was quite used to seeing Tsunayoshi— and many of the others, for that matter— beaten black and blue. Though Tsunayoshi had explained all the Vongola family’s eccentricities and his involvement when they’d been spirited ten years into the future, there was still much of his life that Kyoko had yet to understand. All she knew that she needed to support him. 

“Well,” Kyoko hummed as she grabbed the first-aid kit and pulled it closer to herself, “I’m sure Reborn is just doing what he believes is best for you.” 

“Kyoko! I’m not becoming a mafia leader! I’m _not_!” he retorted in a nasally whine. Kyoko released another light-hearted giggle as she rifled through the first-aid kit for bandages, antiseptic, and antibiotic creams. Tsunayoshi watched her with an angry pout, clearly displeased that she too reacted so casually to his relationship with the prominent Italian criminals. Smiling serenely, Kyoko shuffled on her knees to face him again. 

“Well, I doubt that will get Reborn to lighten up anytime soon,” she chuckled amiably. Tsunayoshi grimaced as he hunched his slim shoulders up to his ears. While he sulked, Kyoko pulled the comforter away from his body. Tsunayoshi squeaked and immediately scrabbled for it, but Kyoko pulled it quickly away from his frantic grasp. 

“K-Kyoko! What are you doing?” 

“Silly!” she snickered and scooched a little closer to him. “I’m going to tend to your wounds! It’s the least I can do after you’ve protected me so many times, right?” 

“Bah… If you say so, Kyoko,” he consented with a bright pink blush blossoming in his cheeks. He splayed out his legs on either side of her so she could shuffle forward on her knees and plant herself right in front of him. She picked up a cotton ball and doused it in antiseptic, then prepared to begin dabbing it on his wounds. 

She could do this. She had to do her best to help Tsunayoshi, in the only way she knew how. 

As she drank in the myriad of scratches and bruises littering his toned body, Kyoko’s eyes grew lidded. _There’s so many…_ Scattered among the fresh injuries were thin white scars, phantoms of arduous training and conflicts past. With a sad smile and even sadder eyes, Kyoko reached out to trace the patchwork of tiny blemishes interspersed between the bleeding cuts and blue-black bruises. 

Tsunayoshi flinched and gasped as her slightly cold fingers met his skin. However, he allowed her to journey across his chest, up his arms, and across his legs. She followed the chronicle of his danger-fraught life until her fingers began to quiver and stutter. There was a seemingly _endless_ amount of lesions disfiguring Tsunayoshi’s person. 

“Kyoko…?” Tsunayoshi asked in a small voice. 

Kyoko hadn’t realized, but tears had sprung to the corners of her eyes. Her fingers faltered over an incredibly long scar slashing across his chest. She wondered, did they sometimes ache, these scars of his? Did he awake in the dead of night in a cold sweat with phantom pain, tendrils of agony blooming from those scars like spider lilies rooted in pale earth? 

The sobering thought sent the tears spilling down her cheeks, which had reddened with misery on Tsunayoshi’s behalf. 

“Tsuna,” she choked. She splayed her fingers over his chest, and they trembled against his wound-littered skin. Slowly, Tsunayoshi reached up to envelop her hand in his, gently pulling it away from his scarred body to tightly wrap his fingers around her shuddering ones. “ _Tsuna_ ,” she repeated in a woeful whine. 

What could she _say_ ? What could she say to make his scars hurt less? Kyoko didn’t _know_. 

“ _Kyoko_ ,” Tsunayoshi sighed wearily. Still holding her hand aloft and giving it intermittent, reassuring squeezes, he used his other to help push his battered body closer to her. “Please don’t cry, Kyoko. This is why I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he frowned. 

As she hung her head, pitifully wiping at her teary eyes with the heel of her free hand, Tsunayoshi reached up to push a swathe of her caramel-colored hair from her face. 

“Ahhhh,” he whined with a self-deprecating smile on his face. “I’m just no good, am I? Kyoko was kind enough to come and patch me up after Reborn put me through Hell, and now I made her cry. I really am No-Good Tsuna, huh?” 

Kyoko released a little giggle at the playful lilt in his voice. It was just so hard to be depressed with Tsunayoshi smiling so kindly as he held her hand and petted her hair oh-so-softly. As she smiled shakily, Tsunayoshi hummed approvingly. 

“Ah, that’s better. Please don’t cry anymore, okay? I promise they don’t hurt anymore.” 

Kyoko twitched as he all but pinpointed the source of her anxieties like he’d read her mind. She shuffled in between his legs as his hand dropped down to his thigh, while his other continued to hold her hand and rub small circles into her skin with his thumb. Her eyes swept over his form once more, over the wounds, both fresh and faded. 

“They don’t hurt?” she echoed hollowly. 

“Nah,” he reassured her with a lopsided smile. “Sure, Reborn puts me through the wringer and sometimes the hurt for a while, but they heal in time.” He then broke out in a big, cheesy smile. “Because I have your lucky charm, Kyoko, and when that’s not enough, I have the goddess of good luck herself to nurse me back to health, yeah?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, they both burst into insanely bright head-to-toe bright red blushes. 

“Gah! I-I-I’m sorry!” he stammered, dropping her hand to wave his wildly about. “Th-that was so embarrassing— K-Kyoko, just forget I said that, okay?” 

Though Tsunayoshi’s mind was muddled by panic, Kyoko was as lucid as could be. 

“No,” she refused. Tsunayoshi squawked and then choked on air, freezing as Kyoko stared intensely at him with burning eyes. She firmly grasped his hand again with both of hers, squeezing it tightly. “No,” she repeated, softer. “I’ll do it. Be your goddess of good luck, and be there to nurse you back to health.” 

_I don’t have powers like you all do. My only power… is supporting you._

Tsunayoshi blinked at her. Silence descended over them like a veil, even blocking out the sounds of the street outside, muting the birdsong and car engines and friendly conversation of the neighbors on the porch across the street. Slowly, Tsunayoshi melted into her touch and her reassurance, a sweet smile rising on his face. 

“Kyoko…” 

“Now!” she cried, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get to work!” She retrieved the medical supplies once more, adjusting herself more comfortably before taking the antiseptic-soaked cotton ball and dabbing at a cut. Tsunayoshi hissed as the alcohol-based solution stung the thin slice in his skin. When he pouted at her, she laughed amiably. “What? I said I would nurse you back to health. I didn’t say it would be _painless_!” 

“Bahhhhh,” Tsunayoshi whined and tilted back his head. He banged his heels against the wooden floor as Kyoko continued to daub antiseptic over his many wounds. “Kyokooooo! Is this payback for getting beat up and making you cry?” 

“Mayyyyybe,” she grinned, pinching the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “You’ll have to suffer more of Reborn’s training so that you get tough enough not to get beat up at all!” 

“ _Orrrrrr_ Reborn can go back to Italy and pick another Vongola 10th!” Tsunayoshi countered hotly. He continued to whine and whimper at Kyoko’s ministrations, even as Reborn strolled casually into the room while nibbling on a bowl of hearty beef stew. 

“Tsuna, you are a disgrace,” the hitman toddler tutted disapprovingly. Tsunayoshi immediately began to sputter indignantly. The refined hitman ignored him and tottered over to a bean bag chair, plopping down and indulging in the delicious beef dish. “You should take your role as a mafioso more seriously. It is unbecoming to complain as much as you do.” 

“I only complain because you give me _hell_ , Reborn!” 

“Yoooo, Tsuna~! Here you are!” 

They both turned as the familiar, good-natured voice of Takeshi Yamamoto floated through the doorway. Both the baseball player and a scowling Hayato hovered in the threshold, each holding two bowls of steaming beef stew. “Your mom told us you were both up here. We brought you some food!” 

“Shame on you, Tsuna, making your mother eat dinner all by herself,” Reborn tsked disapprovingly from his bean bag chair. Tsunayoshi whipped his head around so fast that Kyoko swore she heard his vertebrae crack. 

“Oh, yeah? What are _you_ doing up here, then, Reborn?” 

“Giving you hell.” 

“Ahhhhh! Why did my life turn out this way?” Tsunayoshi howled in lament and flopped backward against his floor. Kyoko had finished applying antiseptic, so she figured she could take a break before slapping bandages on Tsunayoshi’s cuts. She thanked Takeshi as he handed her a bowl and settled in to enjoy Maman’s excellent cooking. 

She paused before starting, drinking in the scene around her. The air hummed with animated, positive energy; laughter and smiles illuminated the room, joining the dying rays of the sunset streaming in through the window. Kyoko smiled, watching warmly as Tsunayoshi bantered with Takeshi, Hayato, and Reborn. 

_Tsuna has scars… But he has them so we can have afternoons like this, doesn’t he? He got those scars protecting a future where we can all sit around, joking and eating Maman’s delicious cooking._

Smiling, she spooned up a bit of the stew and rice and brought it to her lips. 

Tsunayoshi and the others would have to keep fighting for that future. Kyoko couldn’t fight as they could, but she could fight in her own way- with healing hands and comforting smiles and unyielding support. She would fight her own battle so that someday, Tsunayoshi’s scars would all fade away into forgotten memory.


End file.
